The auditorium shimmered under soft golden light, chandeliers hanging like frozen tears above hundreds of seats. It was the night of the annual Sue City Charity Gala, the kind of high-class event where everyone wore masks—some literal, most emotional.
Jackim wasn't supposed to be there. He didn't like the spotlight anymore; he'd seen how cruel it could be. But when Lina sent him the message, short and trembling—
> "Please. Help me perform. Just this once."
—he couldn't ignore it.
It had been months since they last spoke properly. Since the breakup. Since the betrayal. Since the world turned upside down.
Now, Lina stood at the edge of the grand piano on stage, her silver dress catching the lights like moonlit water. She looked elegant, fragile, and terrified. The whispers of the crowd pressed against her back. Everyone knew her reputation had crumbled after her scandal with the influencer and her sudden disappearance from social media. Tonight was her comeback—or her final fall.
When Jackim walked through the backstage curtain, every eye turned.
He was dressed in a black tuxedo, sharp and silent. No jewelry. No bodyguards. No arrogance. Just him.
And yet, his presence was thunder.
The whispers turned into murmurs.
"Isn't that Jackim Ochieng?"
"The billionaire?"
"Wasn't he her ex?"
"What's he doing here?"
Lina froze when she saw him approach. She clutched her microphone like a lifeline.
"Jackim…" she breathed, eyes wide. "You came."
He gave a half-smile. "You asked for help. I'm not the kind of man who refuses a cry for help."
Her lips trembled. "After everything I did, you still—"
"Stop," he interrupted softly. "Tonight's not about the past. It's about music."
Lina sat beside the piano bench, her hands shaking. Jackim adjusted the microphone stand and glanced at her.
"You're nervous," he said gently.
She laughed weakly. "I ruined my name, my image, my career… now I'm about to ruin this song too."
Jackim turned to her, his voice calm, almost fatherly. "You can't ruin truth. Just sing it honestly."
She looked at him, eyes glistening. "You really changed."
He smirked. "Maybe I just stopped caring what the world thinks."
For a moment, their eyes met—past pain and pride dissolving into something tender, raw, and human.
On Stage
The curtains parted. The applause was polite but cautious. Cameras flashed. The stage felt enormous.
Lina took a deep breath. "Good evening, everyone. Tonight, I want to dedicate this song to… someone who taught me what regret really means."
The audience stilled.
Then, Jackim placed his fingers on the piano keys.
A soft melody began—low, haunting, and full of ache. It wasn't just music; it was a confession. Every note carried memories: the laughter they once shared, the heartbreak she caused, the nights he cried alone while pretending to be strong.
Lina's voice joined in—trembling at first, then steady, then breaking again.
> "We were stars that burned too bright,
Lost ourselves in borrowed light.
I chased gold, and you chased truth,
Now I stand alone… without you."
The audience went silent. Even the waiters stopped moving.
Jackim's playing grew deeper, each note weighted with emotion. The System, silent all this time, suddenly flickered:
> [System Amplification: Emotional Resonance x5]
[Public Emotion Detected: 94% sadness, 82% nostalgia, 76% admiration]
[Reward Pending...]
But Jackim didn't care about the System right now. For the first time, he wasn't doing this for points or quests.
He was doing it for closure.
When the song reached its final verse, Lina's voice cracked. Tears streamed down her face. She turned toward Jackim, whispering—not to the mic, but to him.
"I'm sorry."
Jackim kept playing, eyes glimmering. "I know."
The music swelled—then fell quiet, ending with one soft, aching chord that lingered in the air like an unfinished apology.
The hall erupted.
Applause. Whistles. Tears.
Even Sandra, sitting among the audience, was visibly crying.
"She really doesn't deserve him," she muttered, wiping her eyes.
Cameras flashed everywhere. Reporters whispered. "Was that about Jackim?" "Is he the mystery ex?" "This is going viral tonight."
But none of that mattered to Jackim. He stood, bowed politely, and started to leave the stage.
Before he could, Lina grabbed his hand. The gesture was desperate, trembling.
"Jackim, please wait."
He turned slightly. "Yes?"
Her voice broke. "I didn't love you for your money. I loved you because you made me feel seen. I just… didn't know how to handle that. I kept chasing what sparkled, not realizing the brightest thing was right in front of me."
The audience held its breath. Cameras zoomed in.
Jackim smiled faintly, sadness resting behind it. "It's okay, Lina. You just wanted a dream. I became one. But dreams don't last forever."
He gently removed her hand and walked offstage, leaving her trembling under the lights.
As soon as the curtain dropped, he exhaled—long and heavy.
Kelvin appeared with a small grin. "Bro, you just made half the city cry. Even I teared up."
Jackim chuckled softly. "Good. Maybe they'll remember that money can't fix everything."
Suddenly, a new System notification appeared:
> [System Reward: Hidden Emotion Quest Complete]
Reward: Emotional Charisma +20 | Public Reputation Boost | "Heart of Humanity" Skill Unlocked.]
He blinked. "Heart of Humanity?"
Kelvin laughed. "Sounds like a superhero upgrade."
But the System's tone deepened, almost reverent:
> [Ability Explanation: "Heart of Humanity" — allows the host's words and actions to evoke genuine emotion, loyalty, and empathy in others. Your aura now carries authenticity beyond wealth.]
Jackim smiled faintly. "Maybe I'm finally learning how to be human again."
Later That Night
He walked home alone through quiet city streets, moonlight spilling across wet pavement. The sound of a street musician playing violin floated through the night—a simple tune, raw and imperfect.
He stopped, listened for a while, then dropped a thick wad of cash into the open violin case.
The musician looked up, startled. "Sir, that's too much!"
Jackim smiled softly. "Then play a little longer. The world needs more music."
As he walked away, the System whispered again:
> [Hidden Bonus: Good Deed Detected — Karma Value +10]
He chuckled quietly. "Even the System's getting sentimental now."
When he reached his car, his phone buzzed with a message.
It was from Lina.
> "Thank you for not hating me. You didn't just save my performance—you saved me."
Jackim read it once, then deleted it. Some things, he thought, are better left as memories.
He leaned against the car door, looked at the city skyline, and whispered to himself, "No regrets."
Then he smiled—a small, peaceful smile.
Because for the first time in a long while, Jackim Ochieng wasn't just the Bragger.
He was a man who had finally found his heart again.